


The shed

by Displacer Beast (Kasan_Soulblade)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Beast fic, Child Abuse, Dark, Gen, transformations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-27 20:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20052058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasan_Soulblade/pseuds/Displacer%20Beast
Summary: The difference between here and there were two fold.A matter of setting:  They hadn't thrown him under the stairs, rather there was a shed.  It was dark with tools stacked in a corner, bags of fertilizer in the other, and just enough space between planks to keep the air circulating so he didn't smother.A matter of wards:  They were meant to keep out those aligned with the Dark Lord, one rather base interpretation of evil.  And in barring one thing out so obviously it left invitation for other things to come in.So they did, or rather they came out, to that shed one October night well before the expected tale was meant to be taken up.





	1. Getting rid of the unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> To put it mildly there's going to be scenes of gore, this fics set to go darker places and likely will be explicit soon. It will be darker than the base work and play with the creature fic ideas I've seen with a bit of a twist by introducing a specific creature I'm rather fond of... Specific warnings will be posted at the start of each chapter as I feel needed.

They hadn't thrown him under the stairs. There'd been a quick hushed conversation as they pulled the squalling thing in, past door jam and not more than an inch beyond what was needed to close the door. The letter had been consulted, and once assured it was an it, because Freaks were its, not people, less than things, a consensus was met. Not here, not our home.

Still they had to bring it in, for just a little, because what would he neighbors think, a blanket from the laundry bin muffled it's noise well enough and they went deeper into the heart of their home to decide. 

Or rather for Petunia to declare and Vernon to nod and tentatively poke holes into the glaringly obvious plan her spite might have left undone.

Thus the thing was left to linger,in draft, and a side door was consulted for that night and the day that followed. Once the thing was nice and horse and tuckered from it's hollering and hunger it was a late hour. Not suspiciously so but fashionably so, and assured that their neighbors weren't deviating from their habits it had been child's play to toss him in the back shed like so much rubbish, bassinet and all. Murky plans of "finding him later" once exposure had carried it off had been decided on.   
To better dissolve themselves of culpability they'd taken their little Duddly-kins out. To see pumpkins and mock those dressed outre because standards must be set young. A quick drop off of their little bundle of joy with Marge meant they could stay out longer, let weather really turn chill and catch whatever was most popular at the cinema.  
They came home to weather so crisp they could see their breathes. A crinkle of frost under every step seemed a promise being kept. Petunia nearly skipped. And thus they happy family bundled so well that Petunia seemed to have a scratch of bulk bundled in. Thoughts of hot cider and dinner on their minds.

  
Come late, past evening news, before dawn, they recalled obligation. Cycled through scripts, and once assured that all was in place Petunia decided she'd "heard something" and her lovely husband lovingly wrapped in layers would go out. It would be as easy as that.

And if timing were wrong well they could just do so again and again, freakishness ran out eventually after all. They could wait but check from time to time until nature took it's course. And if it took too long... well there had been a promised freeze on the tele, easy as that. Such simplicity would help keep their stories straight, sat it wasn't their fault that crazy cultists had left somebody's baby in the shed.

So as her husband went out she settled in front of couch and quiet tele, looking to events and what not going on about town. If they must be a few days gone they start with something close to home and branch out from there.

With a grunt Vernon staggered out of his chair. Once gravity had been vanquished it was a quick hunt for the keys, back pocket made errand complete, and as after thought he took the fire place poker with him. Circling a muesem trip that sounded just wonderful Petunia hummed to herself as her husband lumbered outside. A few moments later and a metal clatter got her to thinking about heading out. It was likely just time of day and chill but freaks and their freakishness could never be trusted.  
With that in mind she'd decided to break out of their little script and slip outside. A quick walk around the side of the house and she found her husband. It was a quick walk past the sheet covered potted plants on the artfully placed path of faux stone.

The crispness had failed to a soft squelch, but she assured herself of winter yet to come, a promise from the weather man who was rarely wrong. Still the wrongness under her feet made her look from forward to down and the street lights were enough that she could see red. Wide streaks covered her little pathway. Her view of ahead and down somewhat was cut off as Vernon stepped in front of her, saying. "No Pet' go in." in a shaky voice. Picking up the poker he'd dropped she steeled herself, stepped about her husband and saw...

A trail of blood, something dragged, big by the width and heavy by the fact the span about the narrow do it yourself garden path was indented. The door of their shed was ajar, more red seeped from it's base. A few quick steps, never mind they squelched and a nudge of the poker later and one mystery was solved. The blood soused, it'd gushed like that awful awful horror story scene and within, mercifully dimmed but not dark enough to hide there was shredded meat. Clumps of fur and other things splattered on the walls of the shed. Iron and.. wrongness assaulted her nose, suppressing a gag she stepped back, her husbands thick hands caused her to turn about.

"Did you..." She could barely talk, the poker wavered like mad in her hands.

"There's nothing in their but animal Pet'."

The dampness on her shoulder, from his hands, made awful sense.

"Call." Sickness crowded her throat. "Police, same but..."

"I'm not mentioning anything about anything I didn't just see." Vernon vowed.

It was that step before sickness pushed out of the throat, that span where pressure and taste met but before expulsion... And Vernon shoved dirty dishes aside and set faucet to cool and hep her hair. His touch gummed her hair and that made the fit last so much longer. After what felt an eternity he patted her back gingerly.

"Pet?"

"Call." She rasped.

He left then, to do so, and alone she cried.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be part of the first chapter hence the brevity. There will be longer pieces as it progresses but this ones meant to be short. More gore, a step back, and a path forward.

He woke to warm and closeness, and remembered warmth and closeness well enough to know how to respond. Never mind the squelchy and soft wet things he'd reached for warmth and soft. Reached and held on tight because he knew bone deep that such things could go and he did not want this to go. Not in this moment.

And for that strangeness... for that reaction hunger's war with curiosity closed with a surprise winner. The reaching thing had been picked up and wheeled close. Limbs like ropes with grip sheathed in velvet, spines carefully tucked away, the reaching thing was reached for. It was wheeled out of it's nest of sullied softness and when lift had summoned something like a squeak of glee... Well some rotation was added. A few spins and sniffs and pokes and prods confirmed it was a familiar thing. A thing that had been hunted when it was less mushy and more prone to stringing things longer than squeak together. 

The thing's placement was very odd though. And the rank the smell of uncleanliness and rasp of thirst told of something off. Drawing the fleshy thing close to her bloody maw hunter considered prey's youngling and felt a tingle of apprehension as she looked upon the marring of it's scalp. Red and once bleeding, recently bleeding, she eased the thing down and nipped and licked at the peculiar line as she thought. 

Despite the elders many reprimand she always had a habit of playing with her food.

And thus inspired she decided to bring in what she'd left out to cool before. The door had been an issue to ease open and closed, the twist was a somewhat tricky quandary when the temptation of a kick and rend had been playing on her mind.

Thus encumbered with real food she set her kill before her. The thing, little and fleshy did not scream, recoil, or do much beyond flop against her side in weariness. Not even when she slowly tore off a stretch of flesh and wiggled it before the living little thing. A bit bored by the lack of response she tossed the fleshy strip behind her shoulder and took another bite of her kill. It was fleshy and red and she chewed and her green eyes fire bright as she considered. 

Decision made she turned to little thing and offered her muzzle. A quick rub got blood smeared about it's mouth with luck the thing would think to groom and get some of the food in it from that. If not there were other ways. 

Satisfied for now and hungry again besides she bolted down strips of red and tossed aside the unsavory bits of fur. A nip in her side stilled her she looked down, testicles raised in shock grip spines quivering as impulse to attack warred with a deeper sense that warned and whispered of waiting. Lifting one of her fore paws and twisting just so got the bloody faced prey thing to grumble whine, but then it drew close and the nip repeated. 

Audacity warred with amusement warred with confusion.

The barest snatch of fur, the tiniest drop of blood, this fragments of what she was was a slow poison that made the very earth sicken and die as all under sidhe were not of the natural order and only loosely tied to orders ending. It'd been thus since sundering and divide and their interactions with said world were... tentative at most. Hence hunts and missing things that found their way to their world and were either dismissed or devoured as need and whim took hold of the finder in question.

To be seen was a wonder, to not be feared to be marveled at, but to be taken from. Of flesh and blood and essence and be so tamely consumed by this thing so young it wasn't done suckling...

Green fire eyes dimmed as some internal vista was considered and darkened to near black as something responded.

Though cramped in this little span of kill and corners she flipped to her side, setting squawk things on her belly to better watch. It was scarcely a wait as it found footing on four limbs all bent wrong and angled odd, still it found a footing of sorts and knew enough of its own dam that it tried to drink.

That... something in the back of her head clicked. Knowledge clicked into place, surity, she was summoned, something behind the dark of her skull and beyond the swipe of her claws called. Still there were other things to do first. Of rankness to tend to and some blood to coax it to take from.

It might be set starving and bored numb before her but she'd not send it below in such a state.

So she reached for her kill with limbs that bound and tore while cradling the prey in fore paws that were sheathed and gentle. And there was much tearing and a tossing, because bad traits must be passed on and it'd be amusing if the elders weren't just yelling at her anymore for it. It'd reached for the bone of some abandoned dead thing to tug at after with only a little bit of teasing. Once it was fed and riled and had taken a bit of red and had sucked that to a state less wet she eased it to slicked boards. it didn't move much, and more because she wasn't used to minding her claws she quickly scooped it up and bound it to her once more. Pressed close, she rose, looked down to glower at the nip that had not been aimed for nursing. While she was looking down it looked up and wordlessly flapped it's mouth at her.

She blinked, waited, and it did so again with gibberish noises attached. But they were soft, and the night was so far in that morning would be an eventuality sooner rather than later. Most prey was sleeping. This one... this one wasn't and perhaps wasn't as it was before. There was a glint of white about the once toothless maw.

And the presence, the dark behind her eyes snarled, and she stood stiff and staggering to out, over splattered kill, one tentacle loosed from holding the squirming thing as she reached behind her for the thing that the creature had been nestled in.

It'd want that, the prey or the dark, one would likely want it. So she took both and padded into the night.


End file.
